


Trial and Error

by Macx



Category: Primeval
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-04
Updated: 2011-06-04
Packaged: 2017-10-20 03:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/208171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end it was just cuddling and trading touches and kisses. Stephen looked sleepy, probably still fighting the remnants of the medication he had been on, and Nick drew him close, savoring the warmth.</p><p>Stephen was alive. He was with him. He was… alive…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trial and Error

**Author's Note:**

> My first venture into the world of Primeval slash... have fun ;)

 

"Girlfriend?"

Stephen Hart rolled his eyes and dropped his bag, wincing a little as his shoulder wound twinged. One hand rubbed over the tender area almost unconsciously. He had used the old girlfriend excuse on a whim with Abby. He had done so in the past as well, especially when a woman had been too persistent, and it was his luck that the woman he used had actually been his girlfriend once. It had been years since they had seen each other. Allison really was in the rainforest, studying infectious diseases. Their affair had been brief, hot and quickly extinguished. She had been interested in the adventure, Stephen had been along for the ride and enjoying himself.

The break-up hadn't been too bad, especially since she had told him good-bye at the airport, not to worry, and that she still liked him as a friend. That had been ten years ago -- and he still used her as an excuse. A month later he had started work with Professor Nick Cutter.

"Hurt?" Nick now asked.

"Kinda. Sometimes."

It had healed. Well, it had started to heal and to scab and scar, but it was a long way from being gone. It wouldn't be really gone anyway. He would forever have an almost circular scar on his left shoulder, reminding him of the centipede and his near-death experience.

And Helen.

Helen staring at him, telling him to relay a message, leaving him in his pain and his confusion. Leaving him bleeding and dying. He had nearly forgotten all of it, but when the memories had come back, so had the emotions of hurt and betrayal.

Another hand joined his, careful, gentle, barely squeezing the shoulder. "Stephen?"

He met the worried blue eyes of Nick Cutter, smiling faintly.

"I'm fine."

"You're not. You got bitten by a gigantic centipede and nearly died," the other man said bluntly.

"Aside from that I'm fine."

"You will be fine," Cutter corrected.

Stephen didn't answer, just walked over to the fridge, pulling free of the touch. He got himself a can of soda, popped it open and took a gulp. His eyes were drawn to the afternoon sky outside, the clouds drifting across the grayish blue. It looked like it would rain tonight. Nothing new there.

Nick joined him once more, smiling a little. "Hungry?"

"After hospital food? You have to ask?"

That got him a chuckle. "No, I don't. Take out?"

"You can't cook to save your life, so yes, take out."

"I can cook!"

"Eggs and toast, maybe heat a can of soup, but that's where the culinary skills of Professor Cutter end," Hart answered, a mischievous light in his eyes. "You even manage to burn the eggs."

"Always the critic. I'll order, you sit down and get some rest."

"I was discharged, Nick. I'm not an invalid."

"You were discharged because you're no longer dying, Stephen. You're still sick."

Stephen sighed, then plopped down on the couch.

"Good boy," Nick lauded as he picked up the phone and called the pizza place they both preferred, ordering a good-sized pizza for each and some extras. Afterwards he joined the other man on the couch.  
   
 

Nick studied the still too pale and too drawn features, eyes lingering on the bandage taped to Stephen's skin that peeked out. He reached out and touched the edge of the whiteness.

His fingers were caught and intense eyes met his. Then suddenly Stephen pulled him forward, his free hand cupping Nick's head and leading him into a kiss. Two day old stubble brushed against clean shaven skin in a delightful friction.

Cutter was only too willing to comply and their lips met, tongues brushing against each other. He felt something inside him unknot, something that had been wound so tight ever since Stephen had been injured, it had felt like an ulcer waiting to happen.

"Not dead," Stephen whispered against his lips as he parted just a little. "Not dead. Alive."

"I know," he managed.

The next kiss was more intense, almost overpowering in its strength, and Nick fought back as good as he got. It was like a small war for dominance and suddenly Stephen relented, almost surrendering. Nick was too caught up in the rush of the physical contact, of feeling Stephen so very much alive under his hands, he registered their changed positions only later.

On the couch. Him almost blanketing his lover. Stephen looking flushed, eyes a little more dilated than before. Lips wet and his tongue licking sensuously over them.

"Don't think," Hart groaned as Nick started to pull back. "Damnit, Cutter!"

Again he was pulled down, fiercely kissed, and Nick moaned, feeling himself react.

It had been too long. With all the action, with the anomalies, their time together had been cut short lately and he felt it. Like right now. Like when he wanted nothing more than to get Stephen out of those clothes and fuck him through the mattress.

"Nick!" Stephen protested when they separated and Cutter withdrew again.

"You're still recovering."

"Screw that! I want you, Cutter. I need you!"

Dark eyes grew even darker. Nick licked his own lips, aware of his own desires. But Stephen had just been released and while he claimed he was fine, he was still injured.

"Oh good gawd! Stop thinking and just do something, Cutter!" Stephen almost whined.

He looked into the close to angry face and smiled. "Like what?"

Nimble fingers glided over his shirt and found his zipper, the bulge pushing against it reacting to their closeness.

"Lose the clothes."

"And then?"

"I'll tell you when you're there."

Nick chuckled and lifted himself a little, shrugging off his jacket. Stephen watched intently. Cutter was just about to unbutton the shirt to comply to his lover's wishes when the doorbell rang.

"Pizza," Nick announced, grinning at the disappointed look on Stephen's face.

It was the pizza and he carried it back into the living room after he had paid the delivery guy, tipping him enough to make him happy. Stephen was sitting on the couch instead of lying, shooting him an expectant look. Cutter waved one of the boxes under his nose.

"Food first."

"Guess I could eat."

"Guess you could."

Nick had never thought of Stephen as skinny, but the attack had left him suffering and looking thinner than normal. He was lean, he was wiry, but he had never been too thin.

Hart was attacking his slice of pizza with a lot more hunger than he had claimed to feel and Nick leaned back, watching him. He and Stephen had been friends for more than a decade and lovers for the past five. He had mourned his wife's supposed death, he had pushed everyone away, not caring who he hurt. Stephen had been there for him in so many ways, had pulled him back.

Becoming lovers had been a slow but also sudden process. They had drifted towards each other as friends and their first time hadn't been because one of them had been too drunk to remember his actions. It had been purposeful, on the fourth anniversary of Helen's death, and Nick had sought an outlet.

It had been a one time thing.

Or so he had thought.

It had become more. It had become a regular occasion. It had been a buddy fuck. And then it had turned into something with emotions involved. Three years of casualness had been blown to pieces within a moment when Nick had discovered the truth about his feelings for this man.

He loved Stephen.

Hart himself had been bisexual all his life, he claimed. Drifting from women to men and back. He had had his share of male relationships, had experience. Cutter himself was no novice either, but when Helen had entered his life, there had been no one else. And after… he had had some one night stands, to take the edge off the pain. With men, too.

With Stephen.

"Deep thoughts?" his lover's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Kinda. In a way. "

Eyebrows rose.

"So I'm your girlfriend?" Cutter asked, not touching the topic of his thoughts.

Stephen shrugged, chewing on his second slice of pizza. "You want us out?" he asked.

Nick didn't answer. He had never come out, had never felt the need. With the anomalies and his new team, things were growing more complicated. With the return of Helen, it was even worse.

Did he still love her?

All he felt was anger and betrayal, and somehow the thought of being with Helen again didn't sit well with him. He felt more than just a little revolted at what his wife had become, how cold and calculating she was.

Their marriage had never been marked by calm waters. Both paleontologists, both strong-headed, independent, their marriage a spur of the moment decision, and their lives had been filled with travels abroad and spending hours in their labs, discovering new things and retracing the old.

No, they had never been a harmonious couple.

Yes, betrayal was the strongest emotion he felt.

Love? No, not really. Helen was dead. He had buried her empty coffin, and the woman who was now taunting him with her shadowy, ghostly presence was not the one he had loved and married.

"Nick?"

He sighed and smiled a little as he met Stephen's gaze. "I can live with being the girlfriend," he answered.

Stephen grinned. "Honey?"

"Oh, shut up."

It got him a smirk and Hart finished the second slice, looking content and happy.

The rest of the pizza met its demise and Stephen looked decidedly sleepy, making Cutter grin secretly. He leaned over and kissed the slightly greasy lips, tasting cheese and tomato.

"Bed?" he murmured.

"Thought you'd never ask."

"Stephen, you're recovering…"

Another kiss, this time initiated from the younger man. "Okay, okay. I'll give. But don't think you can get away with it for long."

Cutter smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Because he wanted to be with his lover just as much as Stephen wanted him.  
   
 

In the end it was just cuddling and trading touches and kisses. Stephen looked sleepy, probably still fighting the remnants of the medication he had been on, and Nick drew him close, savoring the warmth.

Stephen was alive. He was with him. He was… alive…

Running tender caresses over the chest, brushing fingers through the hair he found there, Nick petted his lover into a doze and finally Hart drifted off to sleep. Nick didn't follow. He just lay and watched and listened. The near-loss and the revelation that his wife had done nothing to help still gnawed at him, had left him shaken.

It would take a while to find an even keel once more.

* * *

The Mosasaur got in the way of more private time. While Nick appreciated the brief glimpse of Stephen with his bare chest and in the black neoprene swim suit, he was too distracted by the anomalies behaving… strangely. And fighting with Lester. And Claudia. And whoever else had the opinion that things couldn't get worse.

Stephen wasn't fully healed yet, even though he claimed he was pain free, and he moved with more agility, too. Tests from the hospital had been negative on nerve damage and positive on his recovery rate. The scar was no longer such an angry red, but it was larger than Cutter would have thought it might be.

Then Nick nearly drowned. He had never been so scared, so sure this was it, and there had been so much he mourned.

Like Stephen.

And then there had been his meeting with Helen. There had been no feelings at all, no softer emotions, just betrayal once more. And anger. Leaving her had been no great feat. It had actually been a relief.

Now Helen had been more or less arrested by the Home Office and all Nick felt was… the need to be home with Stephen. His shock over a bunch of special agents dragging his wife out of the house, completely drenched, looking so betrayed, had dissipated soon. It had been replaced by wanting to be with his lover.

* * *

The episode on the golf course was what brought out the worst.

Nick had kissed Claudia.

Stephen had not reacted to the sight of Claudia, barely dressed, looking like she had had the worst day of her life, coupled with the best experience ever. His face was schooled in the perfect resemblance of disinterest and acceptance.

Claudia's slightly dazed and more or less longing expression had let Stephen's hackles rise. He had watched her following interaction with Nick with even more suspicion and she stood way too close to his lover to be just friendly. Her hand touched Cutter's arm and Nick smiled at her.

Stephen felt like growling – and shocked himself with his rising emotions of… jealousy?  
He had never been jealous. Hell, Cutter had never so much as flirted with anyone of either gender and their relationship had been marked by a steadiness that had been missing from his prior ones.

Now this.

What the hell was going on with him? It wasn't as if Nick actually felt something for Claudia, right? She was … had been just frightened, right? It had been a reaction of stress and fear and extreme circumstances. It had meant nothing.

Right?

But the jealousy wouldn't lessen. It only anchored itself more firmly in his mind.

Sure, there was looking at others. Stephen was guilty of that, too. He had checked out Captain Ryan, found him nice on the eyes, but he wouldn't start kissing the man. First because it would probably get him killed, and second because Nick was the man he loved and Ryan was not Cutter.

But Nick had kissed Claudia.

The anger simmered, the jealousy hissed, and Stephen was caught in the ever-growing whirl of their strength.

* * *

The drive home was rather quiet, Stephen listening to Nick recounting what had happened in the house, how the swarm had attacked him and Claudia. Hart's hands clenched around the steering wheel and he almost snarled at Cutter to shut up. Not just that. He wanted to stop the car, push him against the seat and kiss him senseless… tear his clothes off… make him his… show him who he belonged to.

Nick went on, told him how he had fled to the ambulance, had found the gas bottle, had fought his way back, and then the explosion. Stephen just grunted here or there.

He pulled up outside Cutter's house and parked the car.

"Stephen? Are you okay?"

He was jealous - a new concept for him for sure, but it was just now rearing its ugly head. He was burningly jealous of a woman who had set her sights on Nick Cutter. Nick wasn't the oblivious geek type. He knew who he was, how attractive he was, and how that accent managed to make some weak-kneed. Stephen loved the accent and he loved to hear it in the throes of passion.

"I'm fine." Was that his voice, all hoarse and hard? Speaking of which ... Oh hell. Just thinking of Nick had made him crave contact even more.

"Right. What's going on, Stephen?"

"Nothing."

Cutter's eyes narrowed and Stephen got out of the car, still angry and still deadly jealous.

"Stephen!" Nick called and followed. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Wrong? What was wrong with him?

Stephen groaned inwardly.

He wanted to grab that man, throw him over the bed and have his way with him... Show him who he belonged to. Show him that this was them, that there was no room for Claudia Brown. He wanted Nick to know that what he had done had hurt Stephen. He wanted him to scream his name.

But he couldn't.

He heard an exasperated sigh at his stubbornness.

They walked into Nick's home and when Cutter bent down to pick up some envelopes that had dropped to the floor, his shirt hiked up and Stephen felt something inside of him break.

Good god, the man was too hot for his own good. The faded jeans, the gray t-shirt that showed him off just too well, the way it let skin peek through… Stephen felt instinct war with logic, then instinct won.

With a low groan he grabbed Nick when the man rose and shoved him against the wall, slamming the door shut with one foot, immobilizing Nick's body with his own and silencing his lover's exclamation with his lips.

And god, nothing had ever felt so good.

Mine, ran through his head.  
   
 

Nick gasped in surprise and protest as he was slammed against the wall, a body pressed into his, but then Stephen bent to claim his lips in a kiss and oh - what a kiss. There was a raw hunger and need in this kiss and when Stephen shifted a little, pushed his knee between his thighs there was hard evidence speaking of said need. Stephen broke the kiss and looked at him, and Nick groaned again at the fire burning in his lover's eyes.

"You're either a goddamn tease," the hard body shifted and Nick whimpered softly at the pressure against his own groin, which had come to life the moment Stephen had kissed him hard, "or you're completely oblivious," Stephen snarled, releasing one wrist to let his hand slip under the t-shirt, caressing the bare skin underneath.

"Stephen…"

Whatever Nick was about to say was cut short by the fiery kiss placed on his lips again and the fingers stroking over some very sensitive areas, evoking an involuntary shiver. Nick sighed more or less helplessly into the other man's mouth and opened up completely, feeling gentle fingers pushing up his t-shirt. Stephen broke the kiss again and then Nick watched wide-eyed as his lover gave him a feral grin and slowly got down on his knees. His hands slid over Nick's body, followed by a pair of hot and knowing lips until those fingers brushed over his groin, kneaded his spread thighs, bit by bit starting to undo his zipper. He caressed each inch of exposed skin with his fingertips and lips.

Nick's head fell back against the wall with a soft thump and he moaned, hips twitching when his pants were undone. Stephen wriggled a hand inside, stroking his hard member and - god, Stephen - Nick grabbed the wall for support, his lover was starting to give him one hell of a blowjob. On his knees, right in the hallway!

"Stephen ... I ... god ...could we ..."

"Hm?" Stephen looked up, hands still on his hips, and slowly got to his feet, not pausing to caress him for one second.

" ... bed?"

"If you insist ... "

The next thing Nick knew he was grabbed by the wrist, hauled into the bedroom and tossed over the bed, straddled by his lover, held down firmly by the wrists.

"Don't. Move..." Stephen whispered into his ear as he trailed the line of his jaw with his lips.

He let his hands run down Cutter's arms, over his chest, thumbs caressing the hard nipples, closely followed by his tongue, as he slowly slid down Nick's body, peeling off his pants in the process. Nick clenched his fists into the sheets, but complied, sighing when he felt Stephen's hands parting his legs, stroking his thighs. Then he gasped, moaning at the moist heat that engulfed his hardness once again and his hips twitched involuntarily. He was already beyond coherent thinking when he sensed a slick finger entering him, then two - when had Stephen managed to get some lube? – searching, finding and ruthlessly stroking him from the inside.

Seconds later the fingers were removed, and Stephen’s weight was pressing him down as his lover slid into him with one fluid motion. Nick was close to screaming when Stephen didn’t move, just grabbed his hands, entwining their fingers. He looked down at Nick, panting hard, and the fire of passion and hunger and something else that was still burning in his eyes made Nick tremble with an answering need. He groaned, panted and shifted, begging wordlessly, and received an answering groan in return.

“Nick ... god, I love you ...”

And with that Stephen bent down and took him, completely, entirely, no restraints, no guards. Hart's mouth was on his, his tongue doing wonderful things to his own while he thrust into him. There was no gentle loving, no slow and sensual this time, just pure and simple need and lust, hard and deep, and hell if Nick did ever complain. It was him who screamed out his completion the moment Stephen reached his own and bit down on his neck, and he heard his lover’s rough and deep answering groan as Stephen closely followed him over the edge.

*

When Nick slowly came back to himself he was still weighed down by his lover's body. Stephen was still catching his breath, face buried in the crook of his neck. Nick carefully shifted a little to get Stephen's attention, and was rewarded with a look from slightly dazed eyes.

"Hey," Nick muttered, running a finger slowly over Stephen's face.

The other man blinked twice and shifted aside. "Hey."

"Wow..."

Nick returned the smile and placed a soft kiss on the other man's lips. "Care to explain now?" he asked quietly.

Stephen rolled to the side and sighed. "Claudia," he only said.

"Claudia?"

"Fuck, you kissed her, Cutter!" Stephen exploded. "She threw herself at you, half naked, and she was making puppy eyes at you all throughout the whole mess!"

Nick blinked and sat up. "Stephen…"

"What do you want me to think? You tell me Abby's madly in love with me, giving me the evil eyes, but you kiss Claudia!"

"You're jealous," Nick blurted, stunned.

Stephen just glared.

"You think I'd…? With Claudia?"

"You kissed her!"

"Because she was scared."

"You didn't kiss Connor when his buddy died."

"No, I hugged him. You weren't jealous then."

"It was different."

Cutter frowned, shifting his weight a little, feeling the twinge of their encounter.

"You think I'd exchange you for her?"

Stephen growled something under his breath, looking drawn between anger, exasperation and a flaming jealousy once more.

Nick wanted to laugh, but he knew it was the wrong thing to say. He reached out and touched the other man's bare arm.

"I don't love her. I don't want her. I feel nothing but friendship. Claudia was scared. She was injured, Stephen. Granted, my reaction was wrong, and she thinks something totally wrong now… and I'll tell her it's not what she thinks… but I don't love her, Stephen. I love you."

"What about Helen?"

Now it was Cutter's turn to look exasperated. "My wife died eight years ago."

"She's back now."

"That's not Helen. Whoever that woman is, she's not who I loved and lost."

Nick grabbed the arm he was stroking, touching, and pulled the other man closer. Stephen let him.

"I love you, Stephen. I'm exclusive. You know it."

Stephen was silent for a second, gazing at him with those incredibly dark blue eyes. Nick studied the handsome, clean cut face, the narrow features, the dark hair that framed that handsomeness.

"I know," Hart finally answered. "It's just… she's the first woman you showed something akin to interest in… ever since… us."

"I'm not interested in Claudia."

"She's pretty."

"She's not my type."

"Helen…"

"…is dead," Nick interrupted him firmly.

Another silence descended. Nick just studied the younger man, and he wished he could read that agile mind. Stephen had never been so unsure about his place with Nick than now. Ever since the appearance of the anomalies their relationship had been tested and was sometimes pushed to the limit. Teaching had been one thing, or running off to look at some find, but now they were the front line people. There was a lot more action than an old skeleton or some grave robbers who had stumbled over an ancient site that contained valuable prehistoric bones.

"I love you," Cutter told him once more. "You. Not her. And definitely not Connor."

Stephen had to laugh at that. "He's not your type."

"Oh?"

"Too young."

"Attractive, though."

"If you like them geeky."

Nick tilted his head a little, gazing at the amused man. "And you're not? Geeky?"

"No. You are, though. Head geek." Stephen reached up and tangled his hand in the blond strands, pulling Nick into a kiss. "My geek," he murmured.

End...  
   
 


End file.
